Dying changes nothing
by celine90
Summary: Set post Dying Changes Everything. He thought he had it all figured out – Almost dying changes nothing, dying changes everything. But had he?
1. Chapter 1

**DYING CHANGES NOTHING**

Disclaimer : None of the characters that appear here belong to me.

Summary : Set post Dying Changes Everything. This story follows the first two episodes of the fifth season and then veers off before joining the story again.

He thought he had it all figured out – Almost dying changes nothing, dying changes everything. But had he?

Author's note : I know there are a lot of stories out there based on this episode. But the idea wouldn't leave me alone. So, here we are. It's from House's POV. Reviews are much appreciated.

"_We're not friends anymore, House. I'm not sure we ever were." – Boy Wonder Oncologist James Wilson._

"_Words mean nothing, actions mean nothing, what the hell is left?" – Gregory House._

His head hurt. A lot. Not from cracking his head during the fateful bus accident two months ago, not from the partial complex seizure during the Deep Brain Stimulation, but from what House was famous for – thinking. He thought he had understood and had walked to Wilson's office with the belief that now that he got it, he could fix it. But that belief was shattered, just like he was.

Where had he missed the clues? Where had he gone wrong? For he must have gone wrong somewhere, if this was what a fifteen year old friendship had come to – him sitting on the floor of Wilson's office, after being told that the fifteen year old friendship was in fact, not a friendship. But he shouldn't be surprised, he told himself, twirling the cane in his hand. After all, a 15 year friendship which was worth the same as a few months of dating, was obviously not a shining example of one.

Almost dying changes nothing, dying changes everything. He thought he could explain everything that had happened with that. He felt absolutely sure that that would explain Wilson not bothering to check if he recovered from his coma. It would explain why they hadn't shared a word together until today. And in hindsight, it would explain why Wilson asked him to do the deep brain stimulation. It would explain Wilson wanting him to risk his life to save Amber's. After all, he would just be risking the loss of his life, and worse, his brain_. _

_It was a risk as opposed to a certainty. Almost dying as opposed to dying. House, still upright diagnosing, taking risks, as opposed to Amber, lying unconscious, at risk._ It fit. It was the only reason that he could think of that would fit. And armed with that conviction, he had tried to get Wilson to stay. He had no doubt that he could. After all, figuring things out was what he did. And now that he knew the reason, he was confident that Wilson would listen to his apology, believe it and accept it. It would take time, but things would improve. He didn't like the waiting part, but he could handle it because it would mean that things would be okay again. They would be okay.

But no, Wilson said they weren't okay. That they never had been. For all his rationalizations about Wilson's actions, Wilson had found a better reason. One that had completely eluded him. _Not a friend as opposed to a girl friend. _That fit too, didn't it?

The rational part of his brain screamed that they had been friends, that they had been best friends for more than a decade. Wilson and him out running before his infarction, double dating with Stacy and Wilson's current girlfriend, Wilson taking care of him after the infarction, staying by his side no matter how much he tried to push him away, Wilson going against Vogler for him, lying to Tritter, all the pranks, the lunches, th- how could Wilson deny all that? He had never denied Wilson their friendship. Well, he thought bitterly, he couldn't deny Wilson anything. That much had been painfully obvious. The only reason he had agreed to the DBS risking his life, his mind, everything he was, was because Wilson asked him to, and he was incapable of saying no.

But then, there was this small part of his mind that taunted him with the answer to all the questions that raged in his mind - how could Wilson cast him aside when Amber came along? How could he ask him to risk his life for her? how could the serial carer not care about his fate? How could his response to his cracked head be that they all needed some tea and sympathy? How could he walk away, breaking not only their friendship, but also casting doubts and shadows on everything that they had had? The answer was simple and would explain all that he had failed to do so. The tiny part said since he couldn't explain the reason behind Wilson's deeds, all he had to go on, all he had left to believe was what Wilson said – they had never been friends.

As he rested his head tiredly against the wall, and wished for solitude and some relief, he heard footsteps approaching.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note : Italics in between parts of a conversation indicate the thoughts of the person from whose POV is prevalent in the story.

**Cuddy :**

She looked up as there was a knock at her door. Wilson was standing there, cardboard boxes in his hand, clearly about to leave the hospital he had worked in for more than a decade. With a sigh, she walked towards him.

"Well, goodbye then." Wilson said handing out his hand.

There wasn't much left to say. All the arrangements had been made during the two months of grief leave.

"Goodbye, Wilson," she said, shaking his hand and giving him a hug, " We'll miss you here."

Especially House, she thought and bit back the words, knowing that Wilson did not wish to bring up House again.

"I'll miss you too, Cuddy," he said.

She walked him to the door, wishing there was something she could say that she hadn't until now, to convince him that this was where he belonged and that moving away from his friends was not something that would help. He turned to her at the door and gave her a nod, and turned to walk away.

"Wilson," she said, knowing even as she spoke that it would change nothing, "Are you sure you want to do this?" With a short bark of laughter that indicated a range of emotions and a smile that was anything but happy, he said "Yeah."

And there was nothing to do but nod in acknowledgement and wave at him as she stood watching him walk to his Volvo and drive away.

She walked back to her office wondering what Wilson had told House, and where the latter was at the moment. Thirteen came out of the clinic.

" , was that Wilson leaving?"

"Yes."

"Is House here? Did you see him somewhere?"

"No, I didn't. Why do you ask?"

"Well, we were speaking about the patient, and he said that almost dying changes nothing and that dying changes everything and he got that look on his face that he gets when he figures something out. And he walked towards Wilson's office. So, I was thinking maybe he actually got him to reconsider."

"Apparently not."

Knowing that the conversation with Wilson would not have settled well with House, she decided to go talk to him. He wasn't there in his office, and as she stood there wondering where he was, she realized with a flash that he was probably still in Wilson's office. She walked into Wilson's office and saw with a pang that House was sitting with his back against the wall, twirling his cane and staring at the empty shelves.

**House : **

_Knowing that only one person apart from Wilson, who was never going to come back, would be coming to see him now_, "Cuddy" _he greeted her._

"Trying more ways to mess up that leg of yours so that you can score more Vicodin?"

_Yeah, that's it. I'm an addict._ "Absolutely. Need to convince you, now that my enabler is no longer around."

"Get up. You need to go home and get some rest."

_Like I've been doing anything else for the better part of the last two months._ "And the reason he's no longer around is because I am a manipulative and I spread misery."

"House-"

_Don't worry, I'm not looking for you to deny that. You've always gone along with his ideas._ "Oh, and the fact that we're no longer friends."

"House, he was in pain. You probably said or did what you usually do, and he reacted badly. -"

_Funny, this time I didn't try to hoard Vicodin, or annoy his patients, or cause him to resign, or have his account frozen. I offered to help him._ "Oh well, we were never friends to begin with anyway."

"You can't try to deal with losing Wilson by negating your friendship."

_Bu this time, this time, I killed his girlfriend._ "He said that, not me."

"I-"

_It's not entirely unexpected, I suppose. I always knew that the day would come when Wilson was fed up with dealing with an drug seeking, crippled addict. Knowledge about the possibility doesn't help with dealing with the reality, though._ "Me, I would have said something . Like the reason for moving away was that I couldn't bear looking at the guy who killed my girlfriend."

"Wait, he can't blame you for that."

_I bet he's spent hours in the bargaining phase. God, please let Amber live, and House die. Too bad things don't work that way._ "Don't worry, he doesn't. Or at least, he says he doesn't. He tried to, though."

"You mean he blamed you, and you pointed out how unreasonable that was?"

_Huh, that would have been difficult to do, seeing as how I blame me._ "Nope, he reviewed Amber's case file, searching for things to blame. Couldn't find any."

"You more than answered the call of duty. You did all that you could."

_Wasn't enough though. Wasn't enough to save CB, sure as hell wasn't enough to save our friendship._ "13 was wondering how our patient could go back to the job that nearly killed her."

"You need to talk about this. Don't deflect."

_It's not that hard to understand. I'm back here, aren't I?_ " Not withstanding the fact that the patient was an idiot, I told her that nearly dying changes nothing. It's true, isn't it? I mean, I nearly died and that didn't matter."

"House, give him time. He'll come to see the effort that you put in like the rest of us do."

_Sure, he said we were never friends. But that was probably more of a reaction to the fact that Amber's dead rather than me nearly dying._ "Sort of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"Wonder what?"

_Whether he have asked Amber to risk her life for mine? Would he have left her standing at the door, watching him leave her life._ "How dying would have changed things."

_Would he have been happy that it was I who died and not her. And.. whether things would change now._

_I can see her thoughts racing, and I know that she knows me well enough to arrive at that. Before she could do so, I grab my cane, push myself up, just nod at her confused look and walk away._

**Cuddy :**

"Cuddy"

_How does he do that?_ "Trying more ways to mess up that leg of yours so that you can score more Vicodin?"

"Absolutely. Need to convince you, now that my enabler is no longer around."

_He looks so tired, so.. defeated. The one time House wants to talk, and I don't think he should._ "Get up. You need to go home and get some rest."

"And the reason he's no longer around is because I am a manipulative and I spread misery."

_Well, manipulative? Yes. Spreads misery? You try to. But Wilson's been with him through all that for years. That can't be why he's left now._"House-"

"Oh, and the fact that we're no longer friends."

_Sigh. Oh alright, if we are going to have this conversation anyway, might as well as have an honest one. When 13 said you went in with that look of epiphany on your face, I thought you would have apologized or said something to help him. I guess that was too much to hope for._ "House, he was in pain. You probably said or did what you usually do, and he reacted badly. -"

"Oh well, we were never friends to begin with anyway."

_Typical. Don't deal with the pain. Don't deal with the issue at hand. Bury your head like an ostrich and scream bloody denial._ "You can't try to deal with losing Wilson by negating your friendship."

"He said that, not me."

_Wait. What? Wilson wouldn't do that. He would know that all House had left would be memories. He wouldn't try to take that away too.. Would he? And as I see a flash of hurt and pain in those blue eyes, I know he would. _"I-"

"Me, I would have said something . Like the reason for moving away was that I couldn't bear looking at the guy who killed my girlfriend."

_Still can't believe that the man who for so many years, tried to get House to open up, to be happy, would destroy even a shimmer of that with such cruel words. _"Wait, he can't blame you for that."

"Don't worry, he doesn't. Or at least, he says he doesn't. He tried to, though."

_Wilson doesn't. Does that mean that House blames himself?. This conversation is getting out of hand. I certainly can't control it, and I am floundering helplessly, without a clue as to how to react. _"You mean he blamed you, and you pointed out how unreasonable that was?"

"Nope, he reviewed Amber's case file, searching for things to blame. Couldn't find any."

_And he told you that? Wow. And I can see that you do blame yourself. Why? There was nothing else you could have done. You risked everything to help him. He should be the one reassuring you, I can but try to do so. _"You more than answered the call of duty. You did all that you could."

"13 was wondering how our patient could go back to the job that nearly killed her."

_Well, some things never change. Though I am glad there's a respite from this increasingly head turning conversation, it's not what you need. _"You need to talk about this. Don't deflect."

" Not withstanding the fact that the patient was an idiot, I told her that nearly dying changes nothing. It's true, isn't it? I mean, I nearly died and that didn't matter."

_It did matter. It mattered to me, and though he doesn't realize it as yet, it mattered to Wilson. How could you think that it didn't matter? That you don't matter? _"House, give him time. He'll come to see the effort that you put in like the rest of us do."

"Sort of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

_Huh? More and more, I understand less and less. It feels as if we're having two unconnected distinct conversations simultaneously. _"Wonder what?"

"How dying would have changed things."

_What does he mean by that? Amber did die and it did change things. As I watch him confusedly, he nods and walks away. Or does he mean- . He can't. Does he mean he wonders what would have happened if, my muscles clench painfully at the thought, if _he _had died?_


End file.
